


Happy All the Time

by Simara



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Give Kevin a Hug 2k19 (literally), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mild Gore, Psychological Trauma, mild body horror, this is Kevin we're talking about you know what you're getting into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 10:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: Kevin keeps feeling things that make him anything but happy and since there is no more Strex-approved medical staff to cheer him up, he decides to ask Carlos for help. Carlos is too curious to refuse but the two of them have very different ideas about which parts of Kevin need fixing.





	Happy All the Time

His brain had always been a little glitchy and oh that’s just funny, isn’t it? It had gotten worse after StrexCorp’s momentary set-back in Night Vale and now, in the dessert otherworld, there were no more friendly faces to set him right. Lauren would only frown at him, smile frozen in place, whenever his gaze grew absent. There was nothing she could do against the memories or, worse yet, the _emotions_ that broke through his conviction now and then. It made him claw at his scalp and shake in hysteric fits of laughter. He would gulp down his vitamins – like a good employee – and feel his heart flutter in anticipation. That nice and foggy feeling would return to him and smooth the rough edges in his mind. Well, that’s how it used to go, at least. They were slowly but steadily running out of happy pills and eventually Lauren had become _nasty_ and made him cut back. Their change in circumstances had put its mark on her as well as him. She would get irritated at the smallest thing and couldn’t hide the tremor in her hands. Yet, despite all this, she was still sickly sweet with him and life in the otherworld would have been fine, really, if his body hadn’t betrayed him so constantly. 

 

“Now, Kevin, darling,” she cooed one day as he once again started to blink rapidly, shaking all over. “Are you feeling down again?” He barely managed to nod, smile eternally plastered onto his torn lips. She tutted and shook her head with a wistful little smile. “Maybe you didn’t try hard enough? Didn’t smile wide enough?” Both their gazes were involuntarily drawn to the little razor on the console.

“Please”, he said, desperately, overwhelmed by memories of the last time someone had put a knife to his face. “Yes, please!” And he laughed tears of joy as she tore the old scar tissue open and screamed and screamed and screamed as she reminded him how to smile. He wanted so desperately to be fixed.

The wound brought back a flood of memories and Kevin was sure he would go crazy with all these flashed of sadness and doubt and pain. There had to be another way, he decided one night after pulling the amateur stitches. The Smiling God was testing him and he would not give in. StrexCorp had always taken such good care of them, had made sure that they were their best, most productive selves. But alas, StrexCorp was indisposed right now and thus, Kevin decided to reach out to the only person he knew who was almost as clever as dear old Strex.

 

Kevin felt a little self-conscious as Carlos stared at him.

“Hi”, he said and shifted a little, smile wide and throbbing. He gave a little wave and added, apologetically: “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

“Oh no, come in! I’m just finishing up. Is there something you need?” Kevin relaxed a little. He had almost forgotten how easy Carlos was to talk to.

“Well you see, there has been this itsy bitsy inconvenience and I thought you might be able to give me a hand.”

“Uhm, sure. What’s the problem?” Kevin flinched at the word because having a problem is too much like being defective and being defective decreases your productivity and Strex _won’t stand for that_. But Strex wasn’t here right now and Carlos had a look of honest concern on his face that made Kevin’s insides twist.

“I’m feeling things that aren’t happy”, he admitted. “There are things in my head that can’t be true and I… I need you to _fix_ me. Please.” Carlos seemed more intrigued than surprised and Kevin answered the questions hauled at him as best as he was able to. He told Carlos about the flashes of memories that weren’t his, the way his hands started shaking for no reason and how he’d space out at the most inconvenient moments, how he’d be confused and disorientated and _not happy_ afterwards. He showed Carlos the vitamins, explained that they eased the symptoms and laughed when the scientist called them drugs. “No, silly, these are nutritional supplement. StrexCorp took good care of our health and made sure we got all the nutrients we needed to be our most happy and efficient selves.” Carlos didn’t seem quite convinced, though, and called someone over the speaker, asking them to have a closer look at the exact composition of the pills. Then, he returned his attention to Kevin.

“I’ll need to run a few tests to get a clearer picture of what’s going on with you but I’ll think I might be able to help.” Kevin’s shoulders relaxed (why had they been tense? They weren’t supposed to be tense) and his smile grew wide and honest. Carlos bit his lip in thought. “I’d better call Cecil and tell him I’ll be late.” Carlos went to do just that while Kevin took a seat and waited patiently, hands folded in his lap, with an altogether optimistic air, despite the occasional awkward shuffle.

 

Carlos found his phone beneath a stack of someone else’s files. He speed-dialled Cecil, hoping very much to catch him before the show started. Carlos was in luck; it took only a few seconds before Cecil picked up.

“Carlos? Did something happen?” He sounded worried. Of course he did.

“No, no I’m fine! Sorry to call you up so soon before the show but –“ He exhaled and forced himself to get to the point. “Kevin’s at the lab. He’s not _doing_ anything, don’t worry, he just… wants me to run a few tests.” The concern in Cecil’s voiced quadrupled.

“Tests? What kind of tests?” Carlos lowered his voice a little, even though he was certain that there was no way for Kevin to hear them from the other room.

“He’s… feeling a little under the weather. Mentally, that is. I think he’s about to snap out of whatever it is they did to him.” There was a long pause. Then:

“He might be lying.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think he’d hurt me, either, Cecil. He had plenty of time to try _over there_ , remember?” They both avoided talking about the desert otherworld and all the trauma it had brought them both, but there was no way around it now. “We’ve spent _so much_ time there and I think he… he considers me a friend? I’ll be careful, of course but… I don’t think there’s any danger.” He could hear Cecil take a deep breath.

“I trust you. You know what you’re doing. But … take care, okay? I’ll call during the weather – just, just to check in, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, Ceec. Love you.”

“You too. Please be careful.”

 

When Carlos returned, Kevin beamed up at him.

“Shall we begin?” He asked, almost bouncing in his seat. Carlos took a deep breath, truly hoping that he was right and that this had not been a miscalculation.

“I’d like to take a blood sample first. Would that be alright with you?”

“Sounds fine and dandy”, came the cheerful retort and, with a shiver, Carlos prepared the equipment.

“This might hurt a little”, he said in want of other words. Kevin just smiled up at him and quirked an eyebrow as if to say ‘oh, this little thing?’ Carlos was so focused on his task, trying to figure out just where the vein was most accessible, that he didn’t notice how the politely curious look on Kevin’s face changed as the syringe slipped underneath his skin. Only after he had taken his sample did he realize how absent-minded Kevin seemed all of a sudden and he nudged him slightly, awkwardly.

“All done now. Are you alright?” Kevin blinked at him like a sleepwalker waking.

“Never better. I just had this odd sensation…” he broke off, let the memory of being hooked up to countless medical devices slip his mind _just like that_. His smile twitched back into position. “Oh look at me all frowny! That’s exactly what we’re here to fix, aren’t we?” Carlos shifted uncomfortably and forced himself to smile faintly in reply. It felt an awful lot like he was betraying Kevin’s trust but he wasn’t yet quite ready to admit that he’d rather not re-do whatever Strex once did to him.

 

Kevin jumped to his feet, eager to make Carlos perform some more science on him – but the world got rather blurry when he did so and he swayed a little, gripping the table for support. Carlos almost reached out to steady him, but caught himself just in time and felt a flash of guilt for doing so.

“Do you feel dizzy?” He asked instead, even though the answer was rather obvious.

“Oh, all the time. I don’t mind though. It’s like a nice little hug for your brain.” Carlos found himself nodding in disbelieve.

“Uhu. I, well, I think we should take your blood pressure, then. Should have done that before taking the sample, now that I’m thinking about it…” The last part lost itself in an absentminded murmur as he started to rummage through the medical supplies. He had to admit that they mostly kept those around in case someone got mauled by a librarian but they had also been useful now and then when it came to run a test or two on some of the more extraordinary Nightvale citizens. Carlos finally found the blood pressure cuff and held it up for Kevin to see. “Please do sit back down. This is supposed to be _a little_ uncomfortable but you’ll need to tell me if it should start to actually hurt, okay?” Kevin nodded obediently and let Carlos fasten the cuff around his arm. The results were rather dire. “Could you stand up for me, please?” The number plummeted further down. This wasn’t good. In fact, it was ‘you should be on a cardiac ward’ levels of not good. Carlos exhaled sharply.

“Would you remove your shirt please?” Kevin bit his lip in a way that would have been quite endearing if it had been displayed by any other person in literally any other situation. It had something flirtatious and chaste, startled yet excited. “I want to check your heartbeat”, Carlos clarified in case there were any doubts about his intentions. “Your blood pressure is very low and I need to make sure it’s nothing serious.”

 

Kevin fumbled his way through waistcoat and button-up before shrugging out of them and hugging his chest somewhat self-consciously despite his initial enthusiasm. His moods seemed to change so quickly these days that Carlos had a hard time differentiating which reactions were part of StrexCorp training and which revealed a glimpse at who Kevin used to be. Carlos gestured a little helplessly and Kevin glanced down at his still crossed arms, smiled a sheepish smile and let them fall to his sides with a chipper:

“Please be nice.” Carlos did his best not to stare at the scars scattered across Kevin’s back and torso; intricate nets of lines and dots that shone brightly against his dark skin. Carlos could discern a number of round burn marks very much like those caused by the use of high-voltage tasers. He reached out and brushed his thumb lightly against one of the more prominent ones. Kevin flinched and inhaled sharply at the touch.

“Sorry”, Carlos retracted his hand quickly, as though he had been the one burned. “Did I hurt you?” Kevin shivered visibly.

“No”, he said in a low voice, touching the spot of skin where Carlos’ hand had been. “I just… expected something else.”

“I cannot do this without touching you. Is that okay?” He could see Kevin blush, looking quite willing for the earth to open and swallow him whole.

“It’s fine. I didn’t intend to complicate your work with my defective response system.” His voice was strangely flat, as though he was reading from a manual. “Please just… go ahead and do as you would under ordinary circumstances.” Carlos paused and glanced at Kevin, that odd sympathy he’d felt so often since they’d been trapped in the otherworld resurfacing.

“There is nothing defective about you’re automated responses. They are quite case-book, to be perfectly blunt. Please do not apologize for them.” Kevin crooked his head in confusion.

“You are upset. I did not mean to upset you. Being upset is a serious threat to personal productivity.” Carlos forced himself to smile.

“Of course it is.” He took a hold of the stethoscope and held it like others would a weapon. “Now, this is going to be a little cold…” Kevin’s heartbeat was weak and fluttery, so much so that Carlos initially assumed that he must be doing something wrong. Kevin’s lungs sounded decently healthy, though, and if Carlos got a little unsettled as he noticed the tattooed barcode on Kevin’s neck, he didn’t let it show.

 

Kevin drew his shirt to his chest the second Carlos finally set the stethoscope aside. He grinned sheepishly at Carlos’ furrowed brow.

“Oh my, that bad?” Carlos exhaled sharply.

“Your heart muscle seems to have been weakened considerably.” Kevin tried to shrug it off but Carlos voice grew more insistent. “You’re _this_ far away from heart failure.” It felt terribly personal for some reason. Maybe he was projecting, couldn’t help but ignore how similar Kevin and Cecil looked despite the small differences, the hair, the build. Carlos had often berated Cecil for drinking too much coffee, working too hard, not taking enough care of himself. Seeing or rather hearing what state Kevin’s heart was in made him feel even more protective. He had to force himself to be reasonable. Kevin was _not_ Cecil; they had been exposed to completely different circumstances. Kevin crooked his head.

“You look upset again.” He stated, sounding somehow both intrigued and guilty.

“Well, this is objectively upsetting. You might die.” Kevin’s smile grew dangerously wide, threatening to tear his wounds further.

“You’d be upset if I died? Oh, that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me!” Carlos just looked at him, exasperated.

“No more caffeine or nicotine or any other drugs for that matter. No heavy exercise. A balanced diet. You need to put on some weight. I can count you’re ribs from over here and if your genetic make-up is anything like Cecil’s that’s not an easy feat.” Kevin’s face remained polite but without a trace of emotion. A thought forced itself onto Carlos and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “You don’t – I mean, you don’t _want_ to die, do you?”

Kevin shook his head earnestly yet still somewhat apathetically.

“Of course not. It is, after all, quite disloyal to die without informing your employer beforehand.”

Carlos caught himself wondering how Kevin’s brain managed to process things with such a distinct selectiveness. It would have driven him crazy if he hadn’t known that the other man couldn’t help it.  Being as it was all he could do was sigh and turn around to feign privacy as Kevin buttoned his shirt back up.

 

“Carlos?” He heard Kevin suppress a giggle and wasn’t sure if it was charming or off-putting.

“Hm?”

“You can turn around now.” Carlos did and was caught off-guard by how close Kevin was standing all of a sudden. He wanted to take a step backwards but then he caught sight of something. He had noticed the broad ear-ring before, of course, but he had always supposed it to be nothing more sinister than a somewhat elaborate piece of industrial jewellery. Now that he was seeing it up close, however, the scientist noticed something off. He furrowed his brow.

“Is this…?” Kevin beamed at him.

“Stunning bit of technology, isn’t it?” He tapped it lightly, lovingly. “It’s not just an identification tag; it’s also a tracking device and holds all my medical information. I think it might have been damaged, though. They would have come to get me a long time ago if it were still working.” He sounded very much upset but his smile remained unchanged. “You don’t think you could repair it, do you?” Carlos inhaled deeply. He wasn’t going to admit that he was quite certain that the device was very much still working – it was still _blinking_ , for correlations sake) and that Strex was either unable or unwilling to retrieve their stray employee. Instead he settled for:

“I would have to remove it to see how it’s constructed and I’m not quite sure how to do that. It’s very… intricate.”

“Oh, you could just cut it out, I would not mind!”

“I’m not going to carve out a piece of your ear, Kevin! I’m not that kind of scientist.” Kevin made a disappointed little mewling sound and squirmed in his seat. Carlos hurried to add: “I don’t think we’re quite so desperate as to try invasive methods quite yet. If my working hypothesis turns out to be correct –“, Kevin seemed to grow a few inches at these words:

“You already know what’s wrong with me?” Carlos rubbed his neck with an apologetic sigh.

“Well, no, it’s just a _hypothesis_ after all, we’ll have to run a few more tests but, uhm, I think we’re onto something.”

“Oh. Of course. Silly me.” His voice grew smaller in self-aware disappointment.

“All we can do right now is wait,” Carlos said softly. “The blood results will take some time but… would it be okay if I’d test your vision in the meantime?” Kevin seemed somewhat surprised.

“My vision? Whatever for?” Carlos laughed, a little self-consciously.

“Professional curiosity. Your eyes may or may not have anything to do with the ‘symptoms’ you described but they are, scientifically speaking, quite intriguing.” Kevin seemed almost flattered by that and couldn’t find it in himself to refuse.  

 

Carlos decided to try a standard sight test first and Kevin read the first three lines in good cheer before announcing that the other letters were too blurry to make out. They tried again with a different set of characters but the results remained the same. Yet while Kevin seemed unable to distinguish colours or letters or even shapes at greater distance, he pointed out three hidden cameras that Carlos hadn’t been aware of and a rift in time-space which, apparently, really needed some spring cleaning done. Carlos couldn’t deny how giddy this unexpected discovery made him and he made a number of mental notes for further research.

“Have your eyes always been like this?” Kevin’s brow furrowed. For a moment, Carlos expected him to deny his eyes being unusual at all but then Kevin surprised him with a simple, honest:

“I could not say. Funny, isn’t it?” Carlos went for a flashlight and, fidgeting slightly, asked, “May I?” Kevin shrugged and nodded – smiling, always smiling – and Carlos gently lifted his chin a little to shine the light into his eyes. The dark colour changed ever so slightly, grew a little milkier, but apart from that he could not discern any movement or reaction to the different stimuli. “Huh.” There was no scaring, no signs of surgical intervention but there was no natural explanation for those eyes either and a cold suspicion ran down Carlos’ spine. This might be something much, much older, something not at all scientific and whatever had changed Kevin’s eyes into whatever this was, _might still be out there_. Kevin’s lids fluttered shut.

“Sorry”, he said, forcing them open again with a pained expression and only now did Carlos realize that he was still pointing his flashlight at were Kevin’s pupil would have been. He hurriedly turned it off.

“No, _I’m_ sorry. Did I hurt you?” Kevin seemed almost embarrassed.

“No, no, I’m just a tad sensitive to light. For the most part, it’s just this soft, burning sensation, quite nice, really, but I can’t always appreciate it as I should. It is quite ungrateful of me, I know, but sometimes I can’t help it and remember–” His voice stopped dead and there was a panicked look on his face now. It left as soon as it had come. “Oh. Well, I suppose I have not always had these eyes. Isn’t memory just peachy?” Outwardly, Kevin seemed calm and collected once more but Carlos almost forgot how to breathe when he noticed the one thing out of place. He inhaled sharply.

“You’re eyes– Kevin, I think you’re crying.” Kevin blinked in surprise. He touched the wet streak on his cheek as though afraid that it might burn him.

“I… didn’t mean to?” He said – no, asked – and looked at Carlos with so much confused hurt that he couldn’t help but offer:

“Do you – do you need a hug?” Kevin all but threw himself into Carlos’ arms, clinging to him in a way that bordered on painful. Carlos did his best to make it work. He directed Kevin’s arms a little and arranged their bodies into a more comfortable position before starting to rub circles onto Kevin’s back, humming and shushing softly. Kevin was really crying now, shaking and gasping between fits of giggles and sounds that might as well have come from a dying animal. Now, Carlos wasn’t the hugging type. He was very careful when it came to these kinds of things, even with Cecil, whom he loved dearly despite his complete disregard for personal space. Still, Carlos felt himself so moved by the display, that he held on to Kevin till the tears stopped flowing and the laughter died away. He didn’t pull back until the other’s grip had loosened. Kevin’s voice was hoarse as he said:

“That was a much nicer hug then I had in a long time. Less choke-y.”  Before Carlos could find a suitable answer they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Nilanjana poked her head in, waving a phone.

“It’s Cecil”, she announced, looking a little uncomfortable at interrupting them. Carlos’ eyes lit up involuntarily.

“I’ll only be a moment. Will you be okay?” Kevin’s smile stretched painfully wide without it reaching his eyes.

“Sure.”

 

Carlos hurried to get to the phone and took it with him to the shabby little room him and his team had designated both common room and kitchen.

“Hi there, Ceec.” Carlos felt a little guilty for having turned the radio down when Kevin had first made his presence known. Listening to Cecils’ show was somewhat mandatory within city limits and even if it wasn’t Carlos would have listened to it anyway, just to make sure Cecil was doing okay. Tonight, though, it would have unsettled him too much, hearing both Kevin and Cecil and being unable to help either of them in quite the way they needed him… No, it was for the best that he had turned the volume down.

“Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” The honest concern made all his tension melt away.

“I’m fine, Cecil”, he answered tenderly, leaning against the kitchen sink. “He really wants my help.” Cecil grumbled something in return that sounded awfully close to:

“He sure needs it.” Then he added, somewhat softer: “Are you making progress then?” And Carlos told him about the tests he had run, the theories he had formed and the way Kevin had cried in his arms until they’d both been too exhausted to speak. There was a long silence and Carlos already feared the line had been disconnected when Cecil said:

“I’ll end the show early tonight. You shouldn’t be alone with him.” It was a sweet gesture but Carlos shook his head.

“You don’t have to do that, Cecil. I’m fine. I really am.” There was a sigh and the sound of a swivel chair creaking slightly.

“Of course you are but…” his voice grew lower, quieter: “It could have been me, Carlos. They could have done the same to me. I know that now. We’ve both heard _that_ broadcast. I want to help.” A warm, fuzzy feeling buzzed through Carlos’ body.

“Okay. See you soon, Cecil. I love you.”

“I love you too, Carlos. Always will.” There was a metallic click as the line was disconnected and Carlos could hear a faint,

“Ugh, you two”, from whatever vague yet menacing government agency had listened in.

 

This little reminder of complete and utter surveillance should have been terrifying but Carlos had gotten so used to it by now that he took it instead as a reminder to bring the secret-police-officer who was usually hiding in the bushes underneath the main-labs window a fresh mug of cocoa. She took it eagerly, reaching out from where she was crouching, and started drinking it without as much as lifting her balaclava.

“You should be home by now”, she said between gulps.

“Sorry about that. It’ll be a long night.” She gave him an accusing look.

“You and Cecil didn’t fight, did you?”

“What? No!” It still managed to surprise him how invested the officers seemed to be in his personal affairs. But, he supposed, that must be their way of dealing with the monotony of their jobs. “No, I’ve just… started a new project.” Her eyes grew narrow in an _‘I know what your project is and I will report it to the authorities as soon as I finish this cocoa so please don’t make excuses’_ kinda way. Carlos didn’t quite know what the recommended reaction to such a specific glare was so he just shrugged and waved dismissively, saying:

“Just put the mug on the window sill when you’re done, okay?”

 

When Carlos returned he saw Kevin hunched over the table, humming absentmindedly and drawing little red smiley faces with his fingers. It took his brain a second to register that the red liquid was blood and yet another to notice that said blood must have drizzled from the now gleaming wounds on Kevin’s cheeks. Carlos inhaled sharply, causing Kevin to start. He gave Carlos a disoriented look before touching his blood-smeared lips self-consciously and offering a dreamy smile.

"Welcome back, sunshine!" Neither speaking nor smiling did any good for the cuts and served only to tear them further. Kevin seemed oblivious to it.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Carlos asked cautiously. Kevin laughed in honest amazement. Every sound he made was slightly but disturbingly altered by the pulsing wound.

"Of course it does, silly! Isn’t that the beauty of it?" He offered another smile that was all teeth. Only now did Carlos notice that Kevin’s fists were clenched, knuckles white against the skin. 

"Please", Carlos said "Stop. You're in pain." The gorily enlarged edges of Kevin’s mouth dropped a little.

"I suppose I am." He'd been numbed and drugged for so long that he had trouble conceptualising it. Carlos forced himself to concentrate.

"We’ll have to sterilize the... the wounds, stitch them up." Kevin winced like a child who was being sent to bed early.

"I've only just pulled the stitches the other day", he whined as Carlos rummaged trough his first-aid-kit. The scientist kept a stern face and dabbed the alcohol onto his patients face, ignoring the surprised, pained hissing noises this provoked. He began to clean the dried blood away, gently holding Kevin’s chin between his fingers and thanking the gods that the bleeding hadn't been stronger.

"You shouldn’t have done this in the first place. What good could it possibly do?" It had been a rhetoric question but Kevin answered anyway.

"Oh, you know, Lauren just wanted to remind me how to smile, as you do when someone is in need of cheering up.” He giggled softly. "I'd do the same for her." There was a dark edge in his voice now and somehow Carlos got the feeling that Kevin didn’t like this Lauren very much. An almost morbid sense of curiosity made Carlos push further, despite his unease. He wanted to understand.

“Was she the one who… _cut_ you the first time?" Kevin was about to say that that was a horribly funny question and that Lauren wasn't that kind of employee but just when he opened his mouth there was this, this pain shooting through his head, his spine, his _everything_ and he saw someone hovering above him, smile stretched and frozen, knife in hand, welcoming him into the Strex-family and then there was a cut and a sickening sound and more pain and the taste of blood oozing into his throat, nearly suffocating him and why couldn’t he just black out dear god why --- He snapped back into reality when Carlos took him by the shoulders, murmuring calming none-sense despite his own sense of powerlessness in the face of whatever had just happened. Kevin heard himself speak without knowing where the words came from:

“I’m afraid this information is classified.” It sounded hoarse and distant but Carlos didn’t dare push further. He resigned himself to pressing Kevin’s shoulder reassuringly, if only to pretend he wasn’t in way over his head.

“Alright”, he sighted and tried to offer a smile. “Let’s stitch you up then.” Carlos had never done anything like this before and the needle felt strange in his hand. He was a scientist, not a doctor but he was quite confident that he would figure it out. What was medicine, after all, other than science applied? “Try to hold still, please. This is likely to cause a significant pain response.” Kevin kept it together considerably well; better than Carlos who feared at every little twitch that he might end up causing severe nerve damage. Kevin, Carlos realized, must have gone through this twice already which would explain the detached resignment with which he let Carlos fumble through the finishing knots without as much as a complaint.

 

“There, all done”, the scientist finally announced, cleaning away some fresh spots of blood. “Please don’t try to remove them yourself next time.” He shuffled awkwardly as Kevin’s black eyes fixed themselves on him with an appreciative glimmer.

“You’re a good friend, Carlos”, he purred, speech slurred ever so slightly by the recent stitches. “I should have come to you all along.” A shudder ran down Carlos’ spine and he wasn’t quite sure why. He was somewhat relieved when Nilanjana broke the somewhat tense moment by giving a mock-knock at the door and holding up a couple of printed pages.

“We’ve had a look at the pills and the blood samples you gave us.” She explained.  “The carnivorous fog that’s been coming through the air ducts has been trying to eat both, but when it got too close it kind of, you know, started to bubble and retreat. Can’t blame it, though, going by how miserable the test results were.” She caught sight of Kevin and shifted awkwardly. “No offence.” Handing Carlos the paperwork, she turned to the door and gave a half-hearted wave. “I’ll keep the samples, if that’s okay. We’re _this_ close to figuring out a fog repellent.”  

To Carlos’ honest surprise, there were actual vitamins in Kevin’s so called nutritional supplements. The test results revealed a number of quite mundane ingredients meant to uphold a healthy nervous system. There were also traces of something less benign: A high dosage of caffeine – strong enough to explain the irregular heartbeat he’d observed earlier, if it had been taken over n extended period of time – and what seemed to be a rather complex synthetic opioid. Carlos could feel an odd sense of relieve wash over him. He could work with this. Yes, these pills must have strained Kevin’s cardiovascular system immensely and the damage might be lasting but Carlos had half expected to find something that would have caused irreparable brain damage. Withdrawal would be painful but not impossible. He told Kevin as much and was met with a blank stare. Carlos hurried to explain further:

“If you substitute these”, he shook the bottle accusingly, “with a regular multi-vitamin and keep an eye on your caffeine intake, you’ll be feeling much better in no time. There will be a short-term increase in withdrawal symptoms but–“ Kevin didn’t seem to be listening.

“This can’t be right. Why would there be an opiate in there?”

“Opioid.” Carlos corrected helpfully. “Common mistake, I know, but the difference is quite important – sorry, I digress. What was the question?”

“Why would there be an opioid in my vitamins?” Kevin repeated in a hollow tone, confused smile twitching like a butterfly pinned to cardboard. Carlos considered the question for a moment.

“To make you happy?” He offered, cautiously. Kevin’s face distorted into something akin to fear.

“But I _am_ happy. I do not need to be _made_ happy. That’s not how it _works_.” This, Carlos supposed, was as good a shot as any he might get tonight. He reached for Kevin’s hand and pressed it reassuringly.

“Hey. Can I tell you something?” Kevin’s eyes were wide with anxiety but he gave a sharp nod. “The results so far indicate that some of your symptoms are due to withdrawal. As for the others, well I fear that they are of a more psychological nature. You seem to have a considerable amount of suppressed memories from around the time that StrexCorp, uhm, ‘ _employed’_ you. Your mind is trying to access them now that it’s not distracted by the drug anymore but some part of your brain is trying to hide them away in an attempt to protect itself from the trauma. Your body is fighting itself, that’s why you’ve been feeling… off.” Kevin crooked his head in thought and considered this earnestly for a moment. When he finally spoke it sounded detached:

“I suppose those memories are suppressed for a reason”, he said off-handily. “It’s probably best they stay that way.” Carlos let out a deep sight and pulled back. Kevin leaned towards him, seemingly startled by the sudden loss of contact, desperate to regain it.

“Don’t be cross with me”, he murmured. “Have a little trust in Strex. They sure know what’s best for us.” Kevin caught himself flinching at his own words. They sounded hollow, rehearsed… he had to clench his fists and blink the doubt away before he could offer Carlos another signature smile and say: “Now, how do we fix this?”

They did not, in fact, get to discuss this in any depth because another one of Carlos’ scientists poked their head into the lab that very moment and said that there was a certain someone there to see him. Carlos gave Kevin an apologetic smile and excused himself, saying:

“That’ll be Cecil. I’ll be back in a second. I think he’d like to see you.”

 

They hugged like two men drowning and kissed in a manner that was almost chaste. Cecil rested his forehead against Carlos’ and asked:

“Can you undo what they did to him?”

“I don’t think that’s what he wants”, Carlos answered carefully. Cecil wasn’t deterred.

“Can you? Fix him?” Carlos began to run a hand through his hair, feeling a surge of frustration.

“It’s not that easy, Cecil. Being off the opiate will reduce the mania and I might do something about his vision, reduce the pain, but the rest? All he wants is to be happy and useful and he’s scared about the possibility of loosing that – Heck, he’s probably scared about _being_ scared. He doesn’t want to process what’s been done to him. Can you blame him for choosing safety over trauma?”

“Yes”, Cecil said grimly. “Facing the trauma, that’s what reporters do. That’s what he would have done before they messed with his head.” Carlos drew him close again and whispered softly:  
“You can’t make that decision for him.” Cecil pulled away. He huffed and crossed his arms in an act of silent defiance that both warmed and broke Carlos’ heart.

“Hey,” Carlos said softly, leaning in for another kiss, a brush of comfort. “You’re safe now, Cecil. Strex is gone. You and Kevin aren’t the same.”

“I know. I _do_. But we are similar enough.” Those last few words were spoken with an almost pained expression, as though they were a dirty secret never to be shared. There was no use protesting, so Carlos settled for taking Cecil’s hands into his own.

“So what are we going to do now?” That little blessed word, _we_ , made Cecil’s heart flutter.

“I have an idea but you’re not going to like it.”

“No blood stone circles, we’ve talked about that.” Cecil would have protested but he was fairly certain that this was neither the time nor space to renegotiate their religious practices or lack thereof. So instead he pressed Carlos’ hands and asked:

“Could I talk to him? Alone?” Carlos looked somewhat concerned so Cecil hurried to add: “I will not harm him, or perform any dark rituals, I won’t even be rude to him, I promise.” Carlos sighted and crooked his head, the way he always did when he was trying to think.

“I trust you”, he finally said. “He’s in the main lab. I’ll get some fresh air. God knows, I sure need it.”

 

“Hello, Kevin.”

“Cecil! Good morning!” Kevin extended his hand in excitement and wasn’t faced when Cecil refused to shake it. “It has been too long, hasn’t it? I’ve spend the most lovely evening with out mutual friend tonight.” Cecil’s face was hard to read. He took a seat opposite from Kevin and set up a small recorder, not looking Kevin in the eye.

“I’d like to show you something.”

 

When Carlos returned to the lab he froze in the door frame. At first glance the room seemed empty but then, just as he could hear the last sounds of a very familiar broadcast ebb away, he spotted both Cecil and Kevin. They didn’t sit at the table any longer, rather it seemed as though Kevin had sunken to the floor, barely upright, curled up into himself and shaking all over. Cecil sat next to him, looking drained. Neither of them noticed Carlos and the scientist could just so make out what Cecil was saying.

“I though you’d like to know. I would have wanted you to do the same for me. How do you feel?” Kevin’s brow furrowed in concentration.

“I remember… things. Things that had been a little fuzzy. Things I don’t want to think about –

can’t _stop_ thinking about.” He paused, contemplating. “I never wanted this”, he waved vaguely towards his own face, “but it feels so _right_. It all sounds so reasonable in my head. Questioning it makes me feel sick. I do not want to question StrexCorp. I believe in a smiling god.” He blinked rapidly. “Only I didn’t, back then. I mean, not really, not like you’re supposed to.” Kevin buried his face in his hands and his voice was muffled when he admitted: “They did something to me. Made me see things differently. I didn’t remember how they _convinced_ me before but… If I close my eyes I can see the lights again. Hear the tape recordings. Feel the pain. They twisted my mind, took me apart bit by bit and put me back together, made me better. No, not better. Happier. No, no, no… they… they…” His head snapped upwards as he found the word he was looking for: “They broke me.” A wave of realisation came over him, as though he’d only now put all the pieces together. “Cecil, I think they broke me.” All Carlos could do was watch as Cecil wrapped his arms around Kevin and whispered, determined:

“You’re not broken, Kevin. It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Today's weather (and title) was "Happy All the Time" by Danny Schmidt.  
> Proverb: Don't shout your feedback into the abyss. The abyss does not need your feedback. The author does. Write a comment like a regular person. Please stop shouting. The abyss has sensitive ears.


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